


cruel

by bucketfulloffandom



Category: Boys Republic (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Death. Definitely Death, HAPPY HALLOWEEN HERES ZOMBIES AND TWO IDIOTS, M/M, i wrote this in like two hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucketfulloffandom/pseuds/bucketfulloffandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minsu doesn't have a reason to live beyond Sungjun by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cruel

**Author's Note:**

> the doc for this was called "spooky scary zombie minjuns". i take myself very seriously, you see
> 
> ANYWAYS happy halloween. i don't know why i did this. kudos+comments are as always appreciated though.

"Listen," Minsu insists. He's got his right elbow on the butt of his rifle, the mouth of it pressing into the dirt, and his chin in the corresponding hand, and he's gesturing wildly at the ground in some kind of attempt to communicate his point. "All we need to do is skirt around the south side of the town, away from the big neighborhoods and all, and we won't run into any zombs and we'll be fine. We will be unscathed and unterrified and everything will be alright."

Sungjun groans. "Yeah, we'll be fine for like, two days, but then we start running low on supplies because we didn't pick up any when we could here and then we won't be fine, will we?" He waves his handgun in a little circle in the direction of the more (formerly) populated area of town, his brows furrowed. Minsu glances pointedly at it. Sungjun grins, a little sheepish, and puts it back into its holster, then adds, "We gotta look for shit, man."

"Can we not just avoid, like, everything? That'd be much better," Minsu grumbles. He knows Sungjun is right, though, so he does follow when he sets off towards the central part of the town, slinging his gun over his shoulder with the shoulder strap and shaking his head like a horse to get his overgrown bangs out of his eyes.

Of course, they run into some extremely friendly members of the undead (well, much more undead and much less friendly than Minsu would like), and despite the fact that they've done this countless times before, Minsu still just barely stifles a shriek, just barely manages to bash the zombie's head in before it starts making those moaning sounds that always, _always_ makes more of them show up, like a public invitation to free dinner. Minsu makes a face at the mess, and Sungjun laughs at his expression, hefting his baseball bat. Minsu thinks he wants to punch that dumb grin off his face.

"You look like someone took a shit in your lap,” Sungjun remarks. Minsu sticks his tongue out at him childishly and sets off again without a word. “Don’t be a brat, Minsu,” Sungjun teases as he jogs to catch up. “Boo, you.”

Minsu doesn’t dignify him with a response.

 

“I still think this is gonna be terrible,” Minsu says matter-of-factly some time and several undead encounters later, when they’re paused at a street intersection trying to decide which way to go next. His nerves are fried, even more so than they usually are for some reason. It occurs suddenly to him that it’s sometime in autumn - maybe- October 31?

He’s long since lost track of exact dates, but he wants some explanation for why he feels so uneasy today, and it being Halloween is the best he can come up with, so. Why not, he thinks. 

Sungjun snorts, but there’s a tenseness in his shoulders that Minsu knows means he’s on edge too. “We’ve been fine so far, haven’t we been?” 

“Yeah, _so_ far.” Minsu glances up at the sky, cloudy as it is, and adds, “Think we should find somewhere to stay the night soon? Looks like we have just a few hours ‘til sunset.” In all honesty, he mostly just wants to be able to sit down and try to get that weird tight feeling in his chest out, regardless of how soon sundown is, but Sungjun would probably insist they keep going if Minsu didn’t give an excuse. “Head back towards that residential area we passed earlier.” 

Sungjun squints at the sun, gauging its position, then shrugs and nods. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“Great. Great, okay, let’s go, the sooner we can sit down the better, my feet are killing me.” Minsu bounces a little as he turns on his heels. “It’s been a million years since we started doing this everyday but I still hate it, let me tell you.”

“Me too,” Sungjun agrees. “I don’t think we’ll ever really be used to it.”

 

There’s only one thing Minsu is used to, by this time, and it’s the way Sungjun presses up to him in the middle of the night, after they’ve made sure they’re safe if only for the brief night and they’ve spread their single sleeping bag out on some abandoned household’s living room floor. It’s the way Minsu’s heart finally manages to slow its anxious beating to match Sungjun’s own sleep-steady heart rate, the way Sungjun’s fingers curl at the dirty material of Minsu’s shirt in his sleep. 

It’s the way Minsu stares up at the molding ceiling, listening to Sungjun’s even breathing, and swears he’s going to make it through the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that and beyond, just so he can do this again the next night. He swears the only thing keeping him going is what he’s familiar with, and that’s Sungjun.

He doesn’t want to imagine what would happen if that wide smile of his stopped appearing at the worst times and that obnoxious voice of his, calling him an idiot and a scaredy-cat but yelling right along with him when caught off guard, stopped talking for good.

 

Life is _cruel_.

Of course, that’s a given at this point, because, well, they’re dealing with the aftermath of the goddamn apocalypse, but Minsu never wanted to think that all that tragedy would catch up with him. Or, rather, catch up with Sungjun.

“No, you’re fine, you are _fine_ ,” Minsu chokes past the bile threatening to rise in his throat. There’s an ugly, purpling tear in Sungjun’s forearm that is definitely not fine, and they both know it, but Minsu can’t accept that, won’t accept it. He’s scrambles to tear a strip of his shirt to wind around the wound, but Sungjun stops him.

“Hey, dumbass, don’t trash your only good shirt for this, it’s pointless.” He grins crookedly, then winces when he bends his arm. “You should- you should get going. Before more zombs show up.”

Minsu looks him in the face, sees the attempt in Sungjun’s eyes to keep himself from falling apart even though he knows he’s doomed, and can’t stop the tears from forming. He doesn’t cry, not in front of Sungjun, not ever, he just _doesn’t_ , yet here he is, his vision blurring as Sungjun laughs, the sound weak and scared in a way that shakes Minsu to his core.

“Sungjun, you _shit_ ,” Minsu hisses through his teeth. “You said we’d be fine, you fucking _asshole_.” Any other rude things he would have tried to spit out are drowned out when the first sob escapes his throat. “You can’t leave me, Sungjun.” 

The words surprise them both, the pleading in them, the helplessness. Sungjun pushes at Minsu’s shoulder with the hand of his uninjured arm. “I’m not- don’t talk like that, man.” He’s starting to tremble, now, the facade breaking down. “You shouldn’t… You need to go, really, before…”

 _Before I turn_ , is what he means. He doesn’t say it, though, and Minsu knows it’s because he doesn’t want to, because that would be admitting his fate, admitting his death. Sungjun’s eyes are filled with fear, now. He’s scared of dying. He’s always been.

He’d just been better at hiding it.

“I’m not leaving.”

Sungjun gapes a little at him, and the fact that he’s surprised that Minsu isn’t going to leave him to die alone is a punch in Minsu’s gut. “But- Minsu, that’s stupid, do you _want_ to get trapped in here with a freshly turned zombie and who knows how many more outside? Do you _want_ to die?”

“Maybe,” Minsu says. Sungjun inhales sharply, eyes wide. “Listen, I don’t give a single fucking shit about anything anymore, really, except _us_. And I mean both of us. Together. I don’t give a shit about surviving if I’m not surviving with you, okay? I don’t _care_.”

“Minsu-”

“Shut up. Just, shut up.” Minsu drags his backpack over and digs through it until he finds a pocket knife, flicks it open and slices a long cut down his arm before Sungjun can do anything. It stings, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the despairing look on Sungjun’s face. “Give me your arm.”

“What the fuck? No!” Sungjun tries to squirm away, but Minsu is already grabbing his wrist and pressing their wounds together, biting into his lower lip so hard it bleeds. “Minsu!!”

“There,” Minsu declares, rubbing his palm over his cut to make sure the filth gets in. “Deal’s sealed. Now we just sit here until we-” His voice hitches. “Until we die.”

“You’re so stupid,” Sungjun says. “You are so fucking stupid.”

Minsu cracks a shaky smile. “I know.” Then, quietly, “Since we’re both fucked, I might as well ask this now. Can I kiss you?”

Sungjun looks at him, long and hard, just looks, then says, “Sure. Why not.”

They’re fucked, but at least, Minsu thinks as he finally - _finally_ \- presses his lips to Sungjun’s, at least they’re still together.


End file.
